Chapter 2
Navy Captain Evan Hubbard silently admired the fourth gold stripe on the black cuffs of his winter service dress uniform as he settled into the comfortable leather chair for the flight from Norfolk, Virginia to Coronado, California.
He was the highest-ranking officer on the small corporate-style jet.
The uniform shop had performed a miracle by adding the extra stripe within hours so he could catch the coast-to-coast military shuttle.
Evan had no idea why the C.O. of all U.S.
Navy SEALs wanted him in California so quickly.
Special Operations was a small community to begin with and there were very few officers, especially at his level.
Even though everyone knew each other, SEALs could keep a secret.
No one was talking about the sudden retirement of his predecessor, Captain Johannes Desmond.
On the other hand, everyone knew the tawdry details of why a lieutenant commander and a lieutenant on one of the teams under his command had been relieved of duty last month.
Another commander of a different team—but again, one of Desmond’s—had been relieved for no-confidence last year. But there was probably more.
During the coast-to-coast flight, Evan wondered what kind of shit show he was walking into. When the small jet circled the military airport, he stared out the window at the long strip of land that was filled with pain and joy.
For the last nine years, he’d been an East Coast SEAL working his way through the ranks.
As a lieutenant commander, he’d overseen three Troops on Team 8.
When he’d been promoted to commander, he’d taken over as C.O.
of the more than three-hundred SEALs and civilians on and supporting Team 2.
But he’d gotten his start on the island below.
Upon exiting the small jet, he saw a car waiting for him on the tarmac.
He’d never had a driver while on U.S. soil, but his new position rated a Navy vehicle and driver.
The thump of the heavy door made him realize that the SUV was hardened with bulletproof glass and a steel-reinforced body.
Interesting, but he figured the added security was necessary.
Every SEAL had a price on his head. As the C.O. of Group 1, his still-thick, but lightly salted hair and hard skull were probably very valuable.
It had been years since he’d been back for any longer than a few days.
The familiar water automatically drew his attention, but when they started down Sherman Road he noticed the condition of the golf course and wondered how soon he could get a tee time.
Although he’d only recently taken up golf, he knew most senior officers used the sport to get to know their counterparts and superiors, hoping for favorable memories at promotion time.
Just before Evan had moved from Coronado the last time, he’d decided to make the Navy a career, hoping they’d keep him until he wore stars. That decision had lost him his wife and daughter, but his original goals had always remained the same.
Where the street changed names, his eyes automatically shot to the dense civilian housing on his left. His gaze held on the small stucco house a few blocks from the gate with beautiful views of the ocean. It’d been his home, no, their home, for many years.
Glancing at his watch, he wondered if Genevieve was home. Of course she wasn’t. It was only midafternoon Pacific time. He readjusted his watch since he’d be living in California for the unforeseen future.
Evan wondered if his daughter was also at work.
Kylie had seemed extremely unsettled lately when they talked on the phone.
He hadn’t gotten to see her at Christmas because it was Genevieve’s turn for that holiday.
Besides, he’d flown Ky out to Virginia Beach for the long Thanksgiving weekend.
She’d seemed especially nervous about her finals, so he wasn’t surprised when she spent most of her time in her room studying.
New Year’s Day, he and Gen had agreed that it would be all right for their daughter to take off a semester and work while she decided on a major.
He was anxious to see his little girl once again. Although it had been five months, they talked at least every 3 to 4 weeks. Lately, the conversations had been relatively short because one or the other was headed to work or had just come home from a busy day.
The Navy gave him thirty days leave, but as C.O. of a SEAL Team with hundreds of his men deployed all over the world at the same time, he hadn’t taken a week straight in over three years. Maybe he and Kylie could take a vacation together. He’d heard there were some great resorts in Puerto Vallarta.
He shook his head. He’d heard about those resorts twenty years ago. And eighteen years ago. And again, fifteen ago…from Genevieve. She’d always wanted him to take off an entire week, and they’d go to one of those fancy resorts and do nothing but eat great food, swim, and make love.
They’d never made it to Mexico...together.
He’d been down there on a mission, rescuing a representative of the State Department from one of the cartels.
He wasn’t sure if Genevieve had made it beyond Tijuana.
When they were younger, he’d take care of Kylie for a day while she and her girlfriends went south of the border and bought Mexican junk.
Evan doubted she knew it, but several of his men always followed her to make sure she was safe.
He’d take his daughter to Hawaii instead.
As the street skirted the beautiful old Hotel Del Coronado with its white porches and balconies, Evan smiled to himself as he remembered taking Kylie to brunch there when he’d come to California for her high school graduation…and meetings at NSW headquarters.
Understandably, she’d wanted to hang out with her friends, certainly not her father, so he didn’t feel bad when he had to spend most of his time on base.
They’d found a few hours for supper at the area’s famous seafood restaurant, and she’d regaled him with stories about school, her friends, her plans for the summer, and her excitement to start college in the fall.
She looked all grown up in her pretty blue sundress with yellow flowers that matched her hair, the same color as her mother’s. Fortunately, she’d also gotten her mother’s beautiful face and amber eyes.
Had that really been almost two years ago?
He’d take her to brunch just as soon as he could get reservations.
Evan felt terrible because he hadn’t called her before he left Virginia.
Everything happened so fast. Thankfully, his good friend, Captain Micah Reid, and his new wife, Berit, were down visiting her son and grandbaby.
They saved his ass. Micah had formally promoted Evan to captain and Berit took over organizing his household move.
Thank God he’d rented with the military transfer clause. He’d already been assigned one of the largest houses on the Coronado base and all his furniture would be moved in within ten days.
Micah was so lucky to have found such a wonderful woman. Evan wondered if there was someone still out there for him.
A twinge of worry swept through him. As the commanding officer of Group 1, he had a certain social standing that he was expected to maintain. Thankfully, he wouldn’t be the only C.O. without a wife to act as hostess. Marriages in the SEALs rarely enjoyed longevity.
His friend and mentor, Vice Admiral Trevor Maddox, was the exception.
At least he had been, until his lovely wife of twenty-five years had been taken from this earth too soon.
It had been five years since Evan had gone to Carol’s funeral.
Pancreatic cancer had taken her very quickly.
He’d have to ask Trevor about his two sons and daughter.
The beach narrowed as they neared the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training facility, better known as BUD/S.
Evan, like every single SEAL no matter what rank, had to pass the same twelve months of initial training that started in those white buildings in front of him.
With a washout rate of eighty-five percent, only the best of the best ever got to wear the Trident.
As he stepped out of the car he drew in a deep breath of warm April air, smelling the Pacific Ocean which, yes, smelled different than the Atlantic.
He stared at the headquarters building. The gold trident, rows upon rows of ribbons, and jump wings that he wore over his left breast suddenly weighed heavily upon him.
When he stepped inside that building, he was going to be in charge of more than a thousand men trained just like him.
All of them willing to do whatever it took to accomplish the mission.
He just hoped he didn’t fuck it up.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Merkel,” Evan said to the woman at the large oak desk positioned in front of the last two doors at the end of the hall.
He didn’t need to see her nameplate to know her name.
Marta had been seated at that desk for over a decade.
Before that, she’d occupied several in the headquarters office.
“Captain Hubbard.” She stressed the first word as she looked up from her typing and smiled.
“It’s good to have you here and nice to see you again.
Vice Admiral Maddox is on the phone with the Pentagon, but I expect him to finish in…
” She glanced at the time in the corner of her large computer screen.
“Six minutes. Have a seat. If you want coffee, you know where it is.”
Evan chuckled to himself as he wandered over to the coffee station, grabbing a much-needed cup. His body was ready for supper, but it wouldn’t be the first time a major meal had been delayed. He’d live. Before he sat down, she handed him a folder.